He was too old for this
by MornMeril
Summary: SLASH Bones/Jim Why the hell did he do this to himself? He had known that Jim would abandon him in some corner as soon as he had had a few drinks, leaving his best friend behind to feel like a masochist.


**He was too old for this**

Pairing: Bones/Jim

Rating: R

Warnings: it's SLASH that means m/m love, don't like don't read

Disclaimer: i own nothing, and there is no copyright infringement intended. i also don't earn any kind of money by writing this.

**A/N.: **hiya! although usually a Spock/Jim shipper, i kinda can't deny my love for Bones/Jim anymore now that i'm posting this, lol. it's just a one-shot - the plot-bunnie just wouldn't let me go, distacting me from my other story (Emotionally Compromised), so i finally gave in and wrote it down.

originally i hadn't intended on writing a sequel or even another Bones/Jim fic, but i have to admit that i had so much fun writing this, that i'm not sure at all anymore, lol.

let's see how you guys like it, and we'll see where my mood takes me ;).

* * *

Bones glowered darkly into the amber liquid of his drink, trying to ignore the deafening music, the vibration underneath his feet, the girl that was currently pressing her ass into Jim's crotch, wriggling it for good measure.

He was too old for this.

Cursing under his breath, he grabbed his glass roughly, downing the contents in one gulp, feeling the whiskey burn down his throat. Slamming the glass back onto the table, Bones pointedly avoided looking back in Jim's direction.

Signalling the waiter for another drink, Bones chose to glare at the wall next to him. Why the hell did he do this to himself? He had known that Jim would abandon him in some corner as soon as he had had a few drinks, leaving his best friend behind to feel like a masochist. But then again, who the hell else would take care of the idiot if he wasn't there to do it? For all Bones knew, the next burly guy Jim picked a fight with would kill the kid .

So that's how some kind of routine had started. Jim would drag Bones to the clubs with him and Bones, in turn, would drag the kid back home in the wee hours of the morning, when he was so damned drunk he couldn't see straight. Only that lately, Bones was not too sober either by the time they left…

Hell, he was too _old_ for this!

Wasn't it enough that the damned kid had wrapped him around his perfect little finger, did Bones have to be that much of a masochist and actually stay and watch his stupid games on the dance floor?

But maybe Bones needed this shit or something. His goddamned ex-wife had treated him like shit as well. Not that Bones honestly believed that Kimberly had been anything like Jim, mind you. Jim, he knew, had a good heart underneath all that damned macho act of his. Kimberly had always been a bitch, seducing him when he barely knew he even had a dick and keeping him on the edge for the rest of their shared time.

God knows what the hell had convinced him to marry her at the end, only to get his heart broken quite thoroughly afterwards.

Hell, and then the aftermath of the goddamned divorce. Getting over Kimberly had to be one of the hardest things he had ever done. The most difficult part, Bones mused, was accepting that she was out of his life. With time, he realised that calling what they had 'love' was probably the wrong description.

Kimberly had been his first and also his only woman for so long, that it was impossible to imagine life without her. Finding himself again had been painful to say the least, having forgotten that there even was a 'him' apart from what Kimberly had made of him.

Which was why this…thing with Jim had hit him so hard in the first place. Damn the kid!

Couldn't he have spared Bones from his all consuming charm?

They had been good as best friends, goddamnit. But what did he have to do? Go and fall in love with the stupid idiot.

When he had diagnosed what exactly this burning feeling in him was (that seemed to consume him lately whenever he saw Jim plastered to some bimbo), Bones had almost fainted from the shock.

He was too damn old for _this_!

Another thing he realised all too soon, was that he wasn't a teenager who had no clue about anything anymore. He was an adult, which meant that these feelings were goddamn _mature._

Disgusted with himself, Bones grabbed the drink that the waiter had brought him a minute ago, and gulped it down in one go.

He had to get a fucking grip.

"Bones!"

Bones jumped, his ear ringing, half the liquid that had just slid down his throat ending up in his wind-pipe. Letting the glass drop to the table, he held onto the edge as a heavy coughing fit made him choke for breath.

"Goddamnit, Jim!", he bellowed, rather hoarsely, when he had regained his bearings.

Jim had the decency to look slightly apologetic, as far as that was possible while looking completely sloshed at the same time.

He attempted to take a step closer, but stumbled, obviously having lost any sense of balance. Bones caught him, cursing under his breath.

The kid immediately erupted in drunken laughter that was mostly drowned out by the music. A bit drunker than he had expected, Bones was unable to hold them both upright and they landed against the wall behind him rather heavily. Bones gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. Jim was not as light as he looked.

"Ya nevah dance", Jim suddenly accused, his breath hot on his best friend's face.

Bones sucked in a shaky breath, before composing himself. Screwing up his face, he whipped his head to the side.

"Jesus, Jim, someone could get alcohol poisoning just from you breathing on them.", he grunted, directing his words into the direction of Jim's ear in order to be heard over the blaring music.

"Dance wi'me!", Jim ordered, words slurred.

Bones rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I think that's enough for today.", he said, trying to push Jim off, "Let me pay and we'll get outta here."

Jim wasn't making any indication to move, instead he pressed even closer to him, his hot body now flush against his own.

Bones shot a nervous glance around the club.

They were almost completely shrouded in darkness, the bright lights form the dance floor not reaching any further than a few meters. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed them.

"First ya have t'dance wi'me", he insisted, his hands coming to rest on Bones' hips just as Jim started moving against him.

_Holy mother of Christ!_

Jim may be an idiot, but he sure as hell knew how to dance. His hips pumped in time with the rhythm, his shoulders sliding casually from one side to the other as he rubbed against him in all the right places.

Bones tried to stifle a gasp, his own drunkenness catching up with him, as he helplessly shifted to meet the insistent movements. Jim's breath was against the side of his neck now and Bones' grip on Jim's arms tightened, his determination to push the kid off suddenly gone.

"See", Jim breathed into his ear, lips brushing against it slightly, "not so bad, is it?"

With these words, Jim shifted his hips forward, rubbing both their crotches together and Bones' head fell back with a groan. Fuck, this was good.

He had wanted this for too long, had repressed his desires too vehemently.

One of his hands slid into Jim's damp hair, tugging slightly, while his other arm slid around the kid's narrow waist, pressing their bodies closer together. Jim complied, titling his head upwards just as Bones crushed their lips together with bruising force.

He didn't give a fuck if Jim was too drunk to know what he was doing, he wanted him too much to care about anything else at the moment.

In one smooth movement, Bones had reversed their positions, slamming Jim against the wall as he thrust a leg in between the kid's, pressing his thigh into the hot hardness, his own cock throbbing in sympathy.

Jim's jaw went slack as a moan was ripped form his throat, his fingers clawing into his shirt as he rubbed wantonly against Bones' thigh. This inflamed the older man even more, his tongue probing deeper, stroking over Jim's teeth, the roof of his mouth, tasting the liquor on the tongue that met his own.

Liquor.

And suddenly, Bones did care.

Jim was drunk halfway into blindness- who knows what the hell was going on in his intoxicated mind.

They were _friends_, damnit, did he really want to ruin it all with some drunken encounter? The last thing his heart needed was to be another one of Jim's conquests.

Wrenching himself away, Bones pushed away from the hot body, almost missing Jim's noise of protest and frustration.

Almost immediately, his lips were caught in another kiss, as Jim fell against him once again. Fingers gripping his longer strands of hair in an almost painful grasp as Jim devoured his mouth with drunken passion.

Drunk. Right.

Parting from Jim once more seemed to cause him something akin to physical pain, which maybe wasn't too far off the mark, seeing as his cock was so hard it literally begged for relief, straining painfully against his fly.

Stumbling back hastily, so as not to be tempted again, Bones gently pushed Jim against the wall, this time in order to steady him, being careful to stay as far away as possible.

"You stay here. I'll pay and we'll go.", he forced out, breathless, "Don't. Damn. Move."

Turning away quickly from the blue eyes that were glazed with passion and were looking at him with sweet disorientation, Bones ran a shaky hand through his hair, before tugging nervously on his shirt.

He hoped the damn club was dark enough for no one to notice his…discomfort.

He was too _fucking_ old for this!


End file.
